For Jo Cox
I hope your children learn what I was told as a kid by my Mother
that those brightest stars are the ones that will go first
those ones that take our breath away travel further
and then in the darkness they suddenly burst.
I hope your widower hears the immigrant birds from your soffits
that he thinks for a moment this bordered earth is all of ours.
I hope through the bird song you hear them as prophets
nnd that breaths in cold air are grey living flowers.
I hope you see a kite tail of hatchlings following their Mother
and learn that if the hawk was to snatch her in flight
that you like dying stars can guide them further
even if your eyes have lost in them her light.
I remember last year of a fox that petered out in the mist
like an ember…
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